


The boy is mine

by sammyinthesky



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Established Relationship, Fingering, Frotting, Jealous Sam, M/M, Underage Sam, Weecest, face riding, i probably forgot some dirty tags, sam's a whiny jealous little bitch okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:33:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27594862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sammyinthesky/pseuds/sammyinthesky
Summary: The boys finally have some alone time but Dean seems more interested in the crappy bed's magic fingers feature than he is in Sam. Unacceptable.After all, the boy is his.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Comments: 12
Kudos: 121





	The boy is mine

**Author's Note:**

> this little thing was written a year ago and based on a prompt i received on tumblr.
> 
> the title comes from the song "the boy is mine" by brandy and monica. 
> 
> a big thank you to [ Juinae ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Juinae/profile) for editing this fic and making it readable. everything you added was amazing and i can't wait to read your future fics. ♡ 
> 
> i hope you will enjoy it ♡

It’s 9PM in Arkansas. The weather? Chilly. The birds? Asleep. Sam Winchester? Pissed.

Some might call it a romantically lit motel room but the truth is, it’s so shitty that the lights aren’t even working properly. 

What is working though, for Dean’s absolute pleasure, is the magic fingers device. 

John left them alone for the night, an absence that could last for days. As soon as the door had closed behind their father, Dean rushed to insert some quarters in the machine and threw himself on one of the queen beds, ready to be rocked into heaven. 

Sam watches him out of the corner of his eye annoyed that Dean’s first choice, now that they have some privacy, is to jump on the bed, and well… not on him.

He doesn’t want to seem needy, even though he freaking is. 

A week ago, Dean couldn’t keep his hands out of Sam’s pants, the risk of being caught making them drunk and horny off the other’s scent. But right now, his big brother is acting like he doesn’t crave a dose of the sweet forbidden time they’ve both grown addicted to. 

Had Dean gone to some girl? Maybe he needs something Sam can’t give him anymore. The thought makes Sam’s heart feel hollow but at the same time, filled to the brim with a feeling he can’t quite identify. It’s like nausea and instead of wanting to puke, he wants to strangle something. Or, better yet, _someone_. 

Dean’s eyes are closed and Sam turns to the dirty mirror in the tiny bathroom. He looks at himself and sighs. He’s too thin, so Dean can’t pretend he has boobs. Good thing is, he has no facial hair. Aside from his pubes and messy hair, he’s pretty much smooth. He unbuttons his plaid shirt and takes it off. Beneath it is a tight t-shirt that barely fits him anymore. 

It’s not that he doesn’t have shirts his size, it’s that he chooses to wear one that rides just above his waist line on purpose. 

At a gas station a few days ago, Sam had spotted some gay magazines hidden off to the back and most of them featured young men in tight clothes. He can’t go clothes shopping but what he can do is wear clothes he’s long since outgrown. 

He wants to be sexy for Dean, he just doesn’t know how. There’s time later for figuring out just how to get a rise out of Dean but Sam is impatient. He wants to be all that Dean can think about _right now_. What a waste it would be to go to all that effort if some bitch with tits has already got his brother’s attention.

Not long ago, Sam’d been left alone at the motel and when he turned on the radio, he had heard the song _The Boy Is Mine_. His father and Dean would have laughed at him for listening to something other than classic rock but he didn’t care.

He remembers thinking “Will I have to fight for Dean like that someday? Tell a girl he’s off limits?” Sam can’t imagine yelling at one of the pretty waitresses or bartenders who fall under Dean’s smile and, at the same time, he can’t stop thinking about doing so. 

He leaves the sanctity of the bathroom and approaches their beds. Dean seems to finally notice him.

“Why aren’t you enjoying some magic, Sammy?” 

“Mine’s broken.” It’s a lie but who cares? Not Sam. 

“I’m almost done and then you can use m-”

He doesn’t let Dean finish that sentence and straddles him. Sam’s vision is slightly blurred from his bangs getting in his eyes. Thankfully his hair is also hiding the blush creeping up the back of his neck for acting so bold. 

Dean seems just as surprised as him. He sits up a bit and inserts a new quarter in the machine. 

“Or we can share, I guess.” 

It’s infuriating, how chill Dean acts when they’re in such a familiar position. The last time Sam sat in Dean’s lap, they had had no clothes on and he was choking on his big brother’s thick fingers while being pounded without mercy. He remembers feeling every bump on the road for days after that.

“Why aren’t you doing anything?” Sam can’t hold it in any longer. It’s been a week that he has patiently waited for them to have some alone time.

Dean has the audacity to direct his “Don’t know what you’re talking about” look at Sam. It may work on stupid police officers and teachers but, _come on_ , Sam could see through his brother’s bullshit since he was five years old.

He pounds his fist on Dean’s chest and when his brother grabs his wrist and lets his fingers linger there, they both shiver. Dean lowers his eyes before looking at him again. 

“We’re going back to school soon. Dad told me last week.”

Sam doesn’t understand what that has to do with anything. What that has to do with _them_.

“I thought that maybe you’d want a girlfriend.”

Dean’s tone is neutral, almost cheerful but he can’t fool his brother. He doesn’t say it but Sam isn’t stupid. What he means is _“Maybe you’d want to be normal”_. 

They’ve been sharing space since forever. Sometimes, intrusive thoughts take up as much space as bodies in a tiny bed. And right now, the bed they’re lying on is so cramped it’s suffocating. 

“Why? Do _you_ want a girlfriend?”

The song keeps turning on repeat in Sam’s head, the thought of someone else touching Dean, kissing Dean, receiving smiles meant just for Sam… The mere idea of it all awakens something dark in Sam and his fingers close in a tight fist. 

_He belongs to me. He’s mine, he’s mine, he’s mine, he’s mine._

A part of his brain starts whispering that he knows how to make bodies disappear. He’s a bit frail but he could do it. He could make it look like an animal attack. Or a…

“No.” 

A simple word from Dean makes the darkness in Sam recede a bit. It’s like a fire being put out with a lid and Sam blinks, unable to believe that, for a few seconds, he could actually see disembodied pretty girls, their bodies ruined and cold. _The boy is mine_. 

Sam leans forward, pining Dean’s larger body to the bed as best as he can. His eyes roam over his big brother’s perfect face and here comes the darkness again. This time, it’s directed at Dean. He fights off the urge to lock him up where no one could lay eyes on him ever again. Where Dad wouldn’t be able to find him or send him on dangerous hunts. He would be Sam’s only.

Sam is distracted from his obsessive thoughts by the feeling of Dean’s warm hand on his lower back. The skin exposed by his riding up shirt. 

His breath hitches but he can’t chase the dark whisper locked in his head and heart. 

“You’re mine, Dee.”

His eyes don’t miss the way Dean’s Adam’s apple bobbles up and down. 

“Am I now?” Dean taunts.

Sam groans angrily and pounces on his mouth. 

“Yes!”

He’s lost in the familiar scent of leather and musk that his body has learned to identify with Dean. Home. _Mine_. Sam fears the way he’s shaking isn’t due to the magic fingers’ vibrations anymore.

Sam gasps when Dean’s entire body comes to life. He feels a powerful arm close around his waist while the other grabs his hair. They start kissing and it’s not pretty nor delicate. Sam hisses when Dean bites his tongue and his lower lip and Sam returns the favour by scratching his big brother’s neck, tugging impatiently at Dean’s clothes.

Dean sits up and tries to remove his shirt. Sam whines and grabs his neck for another kiss, licking into Dean’s mouth while grinding their hips together. Dean forgets anything that’s not Sammy and almost tears the indecently tight shirt from his little brother’s body.

“’Have no idea how hard it was, Sammy.”

Sam claws Dean’s warm skin some more, completely lost in the way his older brother has started sucking on his neck and collarbones.

“Mmmh?”

His nose buried against Sam’s skin, sucking hard on a nipple, Dean tugs on his brother’s jeans and underwear until he has access to one of the reasons he’s definitely going to Hell. His fingers rub Sammy’s smooth hole and he almost comes in his pants from the way Sam arches his back and begs for more.

Sam grabs him for a kiss again and pushes him into the bed so he can get up and struggle out of his pants and boxers. The second he’s naked, he’s back to rubbing himself on Dean’s still clothed body.

Sam’s all whines, pants and sloppy kisses. Dean seizes his chin to look at his needy face and Sam’s glassy eyes devour him. Sam starts lazily sucking on two of his own fingers. He’s about to use them to finger himself but Dean grabs his wrist and brings the wet fingers to his own lips, sucking on them until Sammy starts dry humping his leg in frustration.

“C’mere Sammy.”

Dean lies flat on the bed and manhandles Sam’s body to make him sit on his chest, close enough to his face that he can blow on the head of his dripping cock.

“F-fuck, Dean…”

“Language.” His stern word is followed by the tip of a finger breaching Sammy’s tight hole.

Sam moans in surprise and bucks his hips forward, filling Dean’s warm mouth with his dick. He grips the bed’s squeaky headboard and starts humping his brother’s face. It’s so good that he can feel his eyes tear up a little, turning his vision into a blur of faded flowery wallpaper and Dean sucking him off.

He rocks on his brother’s thick finger and cries out when a second digit joins in opening him up.

“D-Dean…”

Dean makes him stop moving his hips long enough to free Sam’s dick from his lips. He licks it without breaking eye contact. Dean’s fingers stop playing with his hole and Sam doesn’t have time to whine. His thighs encircle Dean’s neck and he takes a seat on his face. Sam shuts his eyes, overwhelmed by the sloppy kiss Dean gives his balls and then, his needy hole. His mind always goes back to the first time Dean ate him out.

It was after a werewolf hunt. Dean had pushed him against a tree, bared his ass and made him scream with his tongue. The full moon above them, the blood of the fresh kill on their clothes and soaking into their skin. In other words: a perfect date night, Winchester style.

Behind him, Sam can hear Dean fumbling with his pants to free his own hard on. Sam wants to help him take care of it but is too focused on riding Dean’s tongue in the hope that it will be enough. But he needs more. So much more.

“Dee…I want it now…”

Dean groans under him and pushes a finger next to his tongue in his sloppy make out. Sam tightens his thighs against Dean’s head to make him understand how badly he craves it.

“Fuck me…Fuck me now…”

Sam reaches blindly behind him to grab Dean’s cock and he encounters Dean’s tight fist around it. As soon as Sam’s slender fingers grab the shaft, it pulses and releases come shots that land on Sam’s hand and Dean’s clothes.

Dean’s body jerks under him and Sam sits up above him, releasing his cock and ass from his brother’s grasp.

“What the fuck, Dean? M’not there yet.”

Dean’s eyes are glassy from his orgasm and despite the fact that his chin is full of spit and Sam’s slick, he still manages to look like a handsome son of a bitch when he smiles up at him.

“Don’t be a bitch.”

“Jerk.”

Infinite moments of intimacy pass in a blink of their eyes. They stare at each other and Sam rolls his eyes to hide the smile tugging at his lips. He’s still frustrated though. He sees Dean’s come on his fingers from earlier and brings it to his mouth, licking it like he does with ice cream and lollipops. Dean groans and grabs Sam’s hips. In a second, his lips are around his younger brother’s dick again and he apologizes for the lack of penetration with an eye-fuck and a blowjob that make Sam’s body tremble.

Two fingers are back up Sam’s ass and he’s suddenly feeling more forgiving. He rides them urgently and lets out familiar incoherent whines, a sign that he’s close. 

When Sam starts coming, he fills his big brother’s perfect mouth but then pulls his dick out and paints Dean’s chin and cheek with the last spurts. 

_The boy is mine._

Sam feels an unspoken satisfaction at having marked him like that. For a second, he wonders what Dean’s reaction will be but his brother licks Sam’s still stiff cock and doesn’t wipe the come off his face. Not yet. 

The magic fingers vibration started up again at some point, Sam had been a little too distracted to notice, but he can now feel his body buzzing from pleasure and contentment. Dean still owes him but Sam knows his big brother always delivers after some rest. 

When they’re both lying on the queen bed, smelling like each other, the taste of Dean’s come still on his tongue, Sam closes his eyes. _The boy is his._

The dark rumble in his soul is at peace. For now.

**Author's Note:**

> this fic fell victim to my headcanon that sam really loves 90’s and early 2000’s rnb songs (watch out for my “no scrubs” fic).
> 
> thank you for reading ♡


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